


just desserts

by ethestral



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Siegfried at maximum Little Shit Energy, implied to be after crossing boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethestral/pseuds/ethestral
Summary: In which Aglovale earns himself a free crepe after a hard day's work.
Relationships: Siegfried/Aglovale (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	just desserts

"Please help us with our food stall!”

Aglovale looked up from his stack of documents. The evening aboard the Grandcypher had been quiet, perfect for Aglovale to catch up on reviewing reports from his architects in Wales, which was why he regarded the sudden intrusion into his guest quarters with an irritated quirk of his eyebrow. 

"What in the world is so important that you needed to barge into my room unannounced?”

Lyria raised her head. “Oh! We were planning to visit one of the neighboring islands for their annual festival. We go every year to sell snacks like crepes, skewers, and shaved ice! Ah, but…” Lyria trailed off.

“But?”

“We usually get our ice from the island suppliers for our shaved ice, but they’re totally out this year!” Vyrn said. “Ya can’t make shaved ice without _ice!_ ”

All three of them turned to look at Aglovale. His face remained impassive.

"Gran. Need I remind you that though I have granted myself leave from my kingdom for a few days, I have many _important_ obligations that still require my attention.”

"I know!" Gran’s despondent expression gave Aglovale the impression that he was ready to get on his knees and beg. "But we’re desperate. We can't _not_ have shaved ice on the menu!"

"All those kids are going to be so disappointed..." Lyria added, already reaching for a handkerchief.

"We even have Sir Burnsalot helpin' out and everything!" Aglovale wondered just what exactly Percival had agreed to assist with, but at least in this moment he was thankful that Vyrn seemed to respect _him_ enough not to give him some ridiculous nickname.

"Enough. It is no business of mine how my younger brother wishes to spend his time. Now if you will excuse me, I have more important matters t—"

And then _he_ appeared in the doorway, seemingly out of nowhere, a practice sword in hand and a towel slung around his neck. His long chestnut hair was falling in layers around his broad shoulders and _gods_ his breeches seemed _far_ too tight to be comfortable. Worst of all, that man had that awful knowing smile plastered on his face, as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

"It's no problem, Gran," Siegfried nodded, meeting Aglovale’s gaze. "I'm sure we can find an apprentice ice mage willing to make some extra money for their services."

Aglovale puffed out his chest. 

_Bahamut no, don't volunteer—_

* * *

He should have killed Siegfried when he had the chance.

Maybe this spoon would be enough to stab him in the heart if sufficiently sharpened. Aglovale glanced over from his shaved ice station. Siegfried seemed right at home making crepes, handling the batter on the hotplate with his wooden spreader as if he didn't just learn how to make them an hour before they opened. He had his hair tied back too, with the tattered white ribbon that Aglovale had told him countless times to throw away, but Siegfried always refused, said with that too-gentle smile that it was precious to him.

Stupid, _stupid_ Siegfried, always getting him into the worst situations.

Towards the front of their stall, the Harvin named Arulumaya was offering fortune tellings to customers waiting for their food, while the man who had introduced himself to Aglovale as Spinnah enthralled children with his spinblade performances. He had to admit that Gran’s ability to accept and support his crew members in all of their endeavors was admirable. Aglovale could hardly imagine that so many different kinds of people could come together and make an operation like this work. 

Then again, he could scarcely imagine seeing a day in which his younger brother Percival would be coerced by Lyria into wearing the stall’s truly bizarre mascot costume: a suit made in the shape of a folded crepe, with a lacy frill collar approximating what was supposed to be whipped cream, all topped off by Percival wearing a strawberry-shaped hat. Aglovale sorely wished he had his court painter here to memorialize the scene.

Aglovale knew how to dress when he wanted to conduct his incognito surveys of his city. Change his hairstyle, dress down, keep people at a distance so passersby wouldn't notice the permanent chill radiating from his body. He’d even make some harmless fun out of each excursion, trying his best to emulate whatever seemed to be in style among his people at the time. But Gran insisted that dressing in his cloak and doublet was too much— _what do you mean, too much, this was already casual enough_ —and had forced him into this ridiculous getup. His long hair, combed and tied back into a high bun, wearing the snack stall’s visor, an apron tied around a long sleeve shirt, and a pair of—khakis, he had called them. 

Worst of all, Lyria had made nametags for everyone to wear; Aglovale remembered receiving his and seeing his name written in large capital letters, with childish drawings of hearts and kittens on the sides. His indignant protests died in his throat as he realized Lyria was beaming up at him with her sweet, innocent smile. Siegfried, meanwhile, had gotten away with an illustration of a dragon on his nametag; he had been standing behind Lyria, trying and failing horribly to stifle his snickering in his sleeve. And now he was stuck here, horribly exposed, looking like some common chef with the sun overhead beating down on him.

“Two raspberry shaved ices!” Gran called from the other end of the stall, a long line of customers nearly burying him among the crowd of festival-goers. 

“Aye-aye!” Lancelot and Vane shouted from just behind Aglovale, each of them tending to their own fruit cutting stations. Seeing the huge crates of ingredients stacked as high as the tallest Draph, Aglovale recalled the events of the day prior, when he offered Gran the services of his castle chefs to procure the ingredients for their little venture.

But Gran had refused. “Oh, there’s no need. Lowain can handle it!”

Lowain. That scruffy, unkempt Erune who’d made his presence _too_ well-known as soon as Aglovale so much as breathed around him. He could scarcely believe that Lowain and his brothers, as crude and rowdy as the worst sort of alley-dwelling rats, were responsible for both maintaining the ship’s stores of food and feeding them. Quite well, according to Lyria. 

“Ohh, dude! You’re, like, flamin’ boss Percival’s older bro, ain’tcha?” Lowain had stopped Aglovale in the hallway, Elsam and Tomoi behind him making some likely obscene hand gestures.

“...Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I can _totally_ see the resemblance,” Elsam piped up from behind. 

“They both got that, like, royal stare, y’know?” Tomoi was attempting to make some crude approximation of the withering look Aglovale was giving them. ”Like, lookin’ at you like they’re ‘bout to say—“ And here Tomoi paused, deepening his voice— _”To the dungeons with you!”_

That earned Tomoi a slap on the back from Lowain and Elsam.

”You’re like, a super radical ice mage, right? I bet you’re a real babe magnet.“ Lowain looked him up and down, then leaned in, a sly grin on his face. “Chicks _dig_ mages.”

 _"Silberne W_ —"

Fortunately, Percival had arrived just in time to save Gran the effort of putting out an advertisement looking for new cooks. Either way, those insufferable Erunes weren't around today. 

Aglovale turned his attention back to the two bowls he'd placed in front of him. It was a simple task to focus his magic on the water vapor in the air, coalescing the microscopic droplets and freezing them into the consistency of freshly fallen snow. Two young Draph girls pressed their hands to the glass panel, marveling at how their desserts seemed to be materializing out of thin air. With a quick flourish of his finger, the shaved ice settled into perfectly rounded mounds, perfect for drizzling raspberry syrup and condensed milk on top and finishing it off with a handful of cut raspberries and mint leaves as garnish. Brimming with satisfaction, Aglovale held out the two bowls.

"Behold, the elegance of Wales' fines—"

From the side, Siegfried coughed gently into his own sleeve.

"... _Ahem._ Your raspberry shaved ices, miss."

"Thanks, mister!" The older of the two spoke up. "That was so cool!"

"Hmph, mere child's play," Aglovale replied, preening, before looking down at the pair. "Be sure to stay together and don't find yourselves lost."

"Okay!" 

Aglovale watched them disappear into the crowds, holding hands. Siegfried turned to him, smiling as he brushed some powdered sugar off his apron.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Siegfried said.

"Hardly." Aglovale felt the smile he hadn't noticed pulling at his lips and he quickly straightened himself, arranging another set of empty bowls before him. "I still cannot fathom why Gran wanted to pursue this silly endeavor."

"Hmm." Siegfried quickly cleaned off his hotplate and started on another crepe. "Well, when he's possessed by an idea, there's no stopping him. Besides," Siegfried said, giving him _that smile_ again, "If I recall correctly, were you not the one who volunteered to demonstrate the finest ice magic Wales has to offer?"

Aglovale leveled a look in Siegfried's direction before turning back to his own work. _Only because you tricked me, you horrible scoundrel_ , Aglovale wanted to say, but by this point there were four more customers waiting for their orders and it was easier to busy his hands rather than allow Siegfried to embarrass him once more. 

A nearby commotion made Aglovale look up. A man had pushed his way through the throng of people waiting for orders and stopped in front of Aglovale.

"Oi, you in charge of makin' the shaved ice?" The man said, jabbing a finger at Aglovale.

Aglovale's eye twitched. "...Yes? Is there something you need?"

The man held up a bowl. “What does this look like to you?”

“...A red bean shaved ice.”

“That’s right! But I ordered a green bean shaved ice, extra toppings!” The man was nearly yelling. He could feel everyone looking in his direction.

Aglovale glowered. “Show me your receipt.”

“I don’t have to show you anything!” The man spat. “Just fix my damn order, blondie!”

Aglovale felt his upper lip curl. The crew insisted he had to "act nice" for the day, but how much insubordination was he expected to tolerate? 

“You insolent cur, how _dare_ y—“

“Is there a problem?” Siegfried half-stepped in front of Aglovale and inserted himself between the two men, a polite smile on his face. 

The man sneered, tilting his head towards Aglovale. “Yeah! This idiot here won’t remake my order even though he messed it up!”

“I apologize,” Siegfried replied, gesturing behind him. “He’s a new employee, so he still needs some training.”

Aglovale turned his indignation on the knight. “Siegfried, you—“

“But...” And here Siegfried leaned in to whisper into the man’s ear, his smile never leaving his face. Aglovale saw the man’s eyes dart to the back of the stall, seemingly noticing Siegfried’s greatsword propped up near Lancelot and Vane. The man’s face blanched considerably. Siegfried stepped back. 

“Ah, it looks like he doesn’t want his shaved ice anymore.” Siegfried turned to Aglovale. “In fact, he kindly decided to buy strawberry shaved ices for all of the kids waiting behind him.”

“Y-Yeah! I-I-I’m such a n-nice guy, y’know!” The best Aglovale could do to suppress a laugh was to smile smugly at the man Siegfried had reduced to a pitiful coward. He did wonder what exactly Siegfried had said, but before he could ask, Siegfried had locked eyes with Aglovale. 

“Better get busy, newbie,” Siegfried said, still smiling as his hand settled at the small of Aglovale’s back, hidden from everyone else. By the time Aglovale wrestled enough sense into his flushed face to say something, Siegfried had already turned away, tending to the orders for crepes stacked up on his station. 

“Hey mister, why’s that bowl completely frozen in your hand?”

That’s right. 

He was _definitely_ going to murder Siegfried before the day was over. 

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. As soon as the last customer left, Aglovale found the nearest wooden stool to monopolize as his miniature throne. The crew had their hands full with cleaning and packing up the stall, Gran’s ever cheerful voice directing people towards different tasks.  
  
“Cleaning, cleaning...” A small mechanical bell drifted towards Aglovale. He recognized it as the drone that he had seen floating around in the back, helping carry crates and supplies with its small metal arms.  
  
“Ah! Joy sees a new person. Blond hair. Red eyes. Cold nearby,” the bell chirped, its digital readout eyes looking at Aglovale. “Joy is happy to meet you, Lord of Frost Aglovale.”  
  
Aglovale arched an eyebrow. “You know my name?”  
  
“Yes, Joy remembers! Joy talked to another person. Joy learned many new things, about dragons, about crepes, about Lord of Frost Aglovale.”  
  
“...Did the person tell you their name?”  
  
“No,” Joy beeped. “But, person wanted Joy to hold something until Joy met Lord of Frost Aglovale.” Joy whirred, its arms reaching inside its bell-shaped cavity. It pulled out a crepe, its whipped cream and strawberry toppings somehow surviving unscathed despite being stored away. There was even a spoon. Joy’s ‘eyes’ changed to a happy expression. “For you, Lord of Frost Aglovale!”  
  
“...Thank you.” Aglovale took the gift. His eyes scanned the area, but _that man_ was nowhere to be seen. 

“Joy, was it? Please tell this person I am grateful for the gift.”  
  
“Okay! Joy will deliver the message. Goooong!” Joy spun around in a circle before floating away. “Cleaning, cleaning...”  
  
Aglovale sighed, giving the crepe a once-over before taking a small bite. He would never admit to anyone that he had kept his sweet tooth through the years. Of course _he_ would offer him something like this, just to add insult to the humiliation of actually making a king work like a commoner. Aglovale closed his eyes, quietly enjoying his dessert.  
  
“Good work today.”  
  
A hand at his shoulder made Aglovale flinch. His eyes flew open, meeting Siegfried’s warm amber gaze looking down at him. Aglovale scowled. 

“There’s no need to patronize me, Siegfried.”  
  
“It wasn’t my intention to.” Siegfried pulled up another stool and sat next to Aglovale, his brow glistening with sweat from helping the others carry back some equipment. “I’m glad my little reward was safely delivered.”  
  
Aglovale made a dismissive noise and took another bite, pointedly trying to direct his attention away from Siegfried despite the faint blush dusting his cheeks. From the side, Aglovale heard him chuckle, then the dragging noise of Siegfried scooting his seat closer.  
  
“Ah, you have some whipped cream on your nose.”

“Wha—“ 

He had instinctively turned, just as Siegfried leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth. Siegfried took advantage of Aglovale’s quiet gasp, slipping his tongue between his parted lips while his hand gently caressed the nape of his neck. Time seemed to freeze in those three seconds they shared together. Then, just as quickly as it happened, Siegfried drew away. From behind, Aglovale could hear the sounds of people approaching.

“Ah, my apologies, it was on your mouth. My far-sightedness can be quite a problem sometimes.” Siegfried, clearly unapologetic about the whole affair, reached out to wipe away a small fleck of cream remaining on Aglovale’s lips. With a sly grin, he raised his finger and licked it clean, his grin widening as Aglovale’s face turned red.

“Well, I have to get back to helping the others.” Siegfried stood up and started to walk away, but stopped to turn his head back one last time. “I’m sure I’ll see you at the fireworks display later tonight, Aglovale. Master Jin picked out a yukata for you, just for the occasion.” 

Siegfried left before Aglovale could even begin to make sense of the complete anarchy in his mind. Without thinking, Aglovale put a hand to his mouth, the heat rising in his face despite the plunging temperatures around him.

 _What an unpleasant man_ , he thought, the sweet taste of strawberries still on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year they're gay


End file.
